Old white-haired Zeus, you don't fool me.
I see the dent Athena left in your dome,
And the way you've taken to wearing
Almost up to your
The way you're prone to wandering
The pharmacy lanes
For something for
Your hemorrhoids and chilblains
It isn't even manly.
...and now you come as a frothy swan,
a styrofoam cup in a bird bath...
Well, you're too late.
Night came across the water as I was bathing--
I couldn't see,
And she was just as ill-tempered as they say.
What could I do except to wrap myself around her, smooth and wet,
And that neck,
I had to kiss its every feather in order to believe in it.
Tired Zeus, a dark storm has settled over my world,
And I live inside,
Bitch and bride,
Marked by her and owned.
It's really no place
For an old man to be,
Disguised, decrepit, alone.
for Form Monday at One Stop Poetry